


i know places (we won't be found)

by lottedaaes



Category: The Grisha Trilogy - Leigh Bardugo
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Polyamory, all the nikolina fic is really anti-mal? why, everyone is just flirty and cute, i fixed that for u, occasional fun appearances from our favs, post-war antics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-23 01:53:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30048120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lottedaaes/pseuds/lottedaaes
Summary: Nikolai marries Alina, and he keeps a promise.
Relationships: Mal Oretsev/Alina Starkov, Nikolai Lantsov/Alina Starkov, Nikolai Lantsov/Mal Oretsev, Nikolai Lantsov/Mal Oretsev/Alina Starkov
Comments: 15
Kudos: 25





	i know places (we won't be found)

The night before Alina Starkov’s wedding, the kingdom of Ravka were positively beside themselves with excitement. They spilled into the streets, toasting the Sun Saint with arms around each other, shoving one another for a better look at Nikolai’s flaxen head peering out onto his balcony, his arm arcing in a wave with his new bride beside him. They marveled at the thought of the Grand Palace thrown open for all to see. Women bowed their heads together wondering how demure the dress would be. There were discussions of Candied Plums, a fat Goose for the wedding banquet. The air was alive with the hum of pre-wedding jitters from a whole country, and Ravka experienced the first sense of peace since The Darkling had set foot upon The Fold.

The night before Alina Starkov’s wedding, she takes another man into her bed. 

**

When Nikolai throws open the double doors the next morning with a flourish, Alina promptly rolls over and buries her face in a plump cushion. She hears Mal give a graceless snort of laughter beside her, and suddenly there’s the pressing weight of a body clambering over her, all sharp edges and clumsy elbows. When she opens an eye, the King of Ravka’s frustratingly handsome face swims into vision.

“Up and at ‘em, sunshine. It’s our wedding day.” he cloys, and Alina’s heart jumps traitorously in her chest as he leans over to tug a hand through Mal’s hair, still cropped short from his First Army days. Old habits die hard. Alina understands Nikolai’s fascination with running his fingers through it, she’s guilty of it too. 

“Mine too?” Mal calls, but Nikolai is already off the bed and on his feet, and from Mal’s startled reaction she’s guessing Nikolai threw up a hand gesture that was in no way befitting of the monarchy.

Alina runs a hand through her hair, still stark white, and takes a moment to stare at the ceiling. She remembers Nikolai’s promise to her. Her safety, his throne secure, Mal standing to attention in his uniform. A few children. She furrows her brow, and Mal puts a finger in the divot it makes between her eyebrows like he used to when they were kids.

“Let’s get you up,” he says, rising from the bed, sleep shorts slung low.

Alina climbs into her wedding dress before she lets Genya in the room, despite how desperately The Tailor hammers on the door. She wants these last moments, her and Mal, and she breathes in shakily as his fingers push the last of the little pearl buttons into the impossibly small loop. Silently, he brushes his lips against her exposed shoulder. 

“Can we do this?” Alina asks, hating how unsteady her voice sounds. 

She catches Mal’s eye in the long mirror in front of her. Kind eyes, warm, trusting. 

“There is no end to our story.” he uses her words. And Alina believes him.

**

That night, Nikolai is the one to undo the buttons on her dress. Alina shivers, her bottom lip jutting out. Nikolai notices. 

“Alina,” he starts, managing to actually look worried. An entirely new look on her favorite privateer. “Once I’ve helped you out of your dress, you are allowed to just retire to your room.”

Her various skirts fall to the ground with a soft thunk, pooling around her ankles. Immediately, Alina spins, her eyes bright and unsure.

“Won’t people ask questions?” she asks, her breath catching in her throat. Nikolai frowns at her, holding his scarred hands together behind his back, she notes.

“You can tell them I snore horribly,” he says, light, an attempt at teasing.

“You said… you said we would have children?”

Those hazel eyes widen, and Alina swallows her guilt.

“I hope one day you’ll grow to care about me enough to want that.”

Alina throws her arms around him in her cotton undergarments, startling him with a kiss to the cheek. He tentatively returns the hug, happy to see Alina’s former nerves disappear.

He laughs at her as she kicks the bundle of skirts into the corner of the room, tosses him a smile as Tamar covertly escorts her out of his bedroom and down the hall to her own. Nikolai expects there’ll be some awkward conversation come breakfast, but when the sun hits his eyelids, he feels a small, warm body slide into bed beside him. Alina hooks her pointy chin over his shoulder, her arms burrowing around his waist.

“I crept down the hall, your marble floors are freezing! I thought it would be a good idea to keep up appearances.”

**

Mal’s in the vast, sprawling kitchens when he hears it. He’s half-asleep, Tolya having just removed him from his post outside Alina’s bedroom door. He’s bundling a fluffy loaf of bread into his handkerchief, selecting a rich block of cheese. The kind that reminds him of his time with Alina in various little cities, a small reprieve from time spent in the woods. Although, admittedly, the food in the palace is much better. Alina picked her way through dinner, he noticed, and he knows that later tonight when he lays his head on her stomach, all he’ll hear is a hungry rumble.

“Of course, we were all pleased to see her on the throne, I just never thought it would happen!”

Mal peers around a stack of boxes to see two of the maids huddled together, hands curled around their individual mugs of hot cocoa. He tries to blend into the shadows, withdraw himself and hide, flattening out all the places the First Army made him hard and lean as he presses himself against the wall, clutching bread and cheese.

“What do you mean?” asks the younger girl, the shy one with the plaits. She blushes whenever she sees Mal coming.

“Oh, you know the stories! All the men and women King Nikolai had whilst he was away, on those _apprenticeships_ ,” she says, the last word disbelieving in her mouth.

Mal’s stomach twists. For a moment, he allows himself to think of his friend, Luka, crawling back into the barracks, the stink of alcohol that clung to his clothes when he leaned over Mal’s cot, the drunken but firm press of his lips. Mal remembers the warm touch of Luka’s hand cupping his cheek, his ragged breathing in the dark. The stumbled apologies afterward. He’d never spoken a word of it since, not even to Alina, though he doubted she’d mind. 

The girl with the plaits giggles.

“Sankta Alina must be very special to tame our wayward King!” she squeaks, Alina’s old sainthood falling from her lips.

When Mal sleeps, Luka’s eyes are replaced by a flash of hazel, and he wakes fitful, Nikolai’s name dying on his lips.

**

Alina is sitting, legs crossed, in the War Room, chewing on her thumbnail. There is no Genya to fussily slap her hands away.

Perhaps they should rename the War Room now. Maybe that’s far too optimistic a thought. There will always be men like The Darkling, and there is a vulnerable Ravka. But with herself and Nikolai on the throne, she likes to think this room will always be used for little excursions like this. The faded maps are still on the walls, but Mal is leaning against one with his arms crossed, a smirk tugging his lips upwards. Nikolai’s long legs are resting on the table, grapes littered at his feet, his chin jutting in the air at the eleventh failed attempt to land one in his mouth. 

“Your aim is Saintsawful - are you sure you served?” Mal teases, his voice easy, the way it only ever is with Alina. He did always like Nikolai an awful lot.

“Quiet, Oretsev. Or I shall have you beheaded like the tyrant King I am.”

Alina mock gasps.

“I forbid it!”

She laughs, high, pretty. And suddenly there are two pairs of eyes on her, wearing twin looks of… Alina isn’t quite sure what.

“What?” she questions, a hand awkwardly rubbing her cheek. “Is there something on my face?”

Before either of them can answer, the doors to the War Room swing open with so much enthusiasm they hit off the wall. Genya has to contort her lithe body to slide into the room without being hit, and then shakes back her long, red curls as though it were no effort at all. She blusters into the room like a lovely hurricane.

“What are you doing in here? There are guests in the day room!” she insists, snapping her fingers towards the door, “We can all continue having a good flirt later.”

“Is that a promise?” Mal quips, and Alina blinks hard as she watches him throw a wink in Nikolai’s direction. She thinks she imagines the high blush on Nikolai’s fair cheeks.

** 

“I want to kiss you.”

Alina’s hands stop what they’re doing. She drops the prototype she’s holding, wincing as it crashes onto Nikolai’s desk, a cog coming loose and skittering across the desk.

“Was that important?” she questions, without turning to face him.

“No, on the contrary, I was simply fashioning myself a toy submarine.”

Alina smiles, smoothing out Nikolai’s various sketches and plans, the paper curling at the edges and torn in places from where her husband has scribbled things out over and over. She feels Nikolai behind her before his chest hits her back, crowding her against the desk, and she lets out a sharp, surprised breath.

“Did you hear me? he questions, his breath tickling her ear. The calloused tips of his fingers circle her wrist, his hand sliding into hers, his thumb brushing the raised skin of a scar. She bites her lip, thinking always of Mal.

“Yes,” she answers, barely finding her voice. 

“And? Can I?”

Despite not having much room to do so, Alina maneuvers herself so that she can spin to face the taller man. He’s got that clever, fox-like smile on his lips, cunning and golden and beautiful, and Alina finds there is a part of her that wants very much to say yes. Nikolai’s hands brush a strand of hair behind her ear, tailored dark again, and she shivers. She answers him with a little nod.

Nikolai’s hands are suddenly everywhere, bracing themselves on her hips as she feels herself being lifted onto the desk, then back in her hair as he leans in to kiss her. The press of his lips is so gentle that Alina can’t help but laugh, which causes him to pull back.

“What?”

“Well, I have kissed a boy before, you know.” she huffs, blowing a piece of hair from her eyes. “You don’t have to be so… gentle with me. Like I’m a piece of Lantsov family china.”

“I happen to dislike the Lantsov family china. We must pick out new patterns.”

Alina presses her lips together to suppress another laugh. She feels the too-fast beating of her heart as he smirks, letting his nose brush hers once.

The disruption comes by way of another sound of the swinging door, and the sight of Mal’s boots following behind him as he disappears from the room.

**

Mal spends days stomping around the garden. He kicks rose bushes, he frightens some swans, Zoya constantly fields complaints to Nikolai about his conduct with a scrunch of her nose. It’s going to be an awkward conversation, but Nikolai has never quite managed to avoid having those.

“Oretsev,” he calls, over the bustle of the room. “Can you stay behind a moment?”

An unbecoming scowl plays on Mal’s face, momentarily marring his handsome features. The unwelcome facial expression is quickly smoothed out as he turns to the men and women of his guard, assuring them he’ll catch up to them as they file out.

His shoulders are squared as he turns on his feet to face his King, and Nikolai can’t help but be irritated. He remembers the easy sparring the two of them did aboard his ship, remembers the sleep-soft feel of his body the morning of Nikolai’s wedding. It seems foolish to think they could ever play this game, both he and Alina pretending Mal is nothing more but their devoted Captain.

“Listen, I know you’re unhappy about Alina and I, but I asked you if you could handle this before we made the arrangement. I’m forced to ask you again, can yo-“

Mal holds up a single hand, and Nikolai can’t help but scoff in shock.

“I’m not unhappy,” he replies, squaring his jaw.

“Alright, so jealous.”

“Yes.” Mal retorts, stubborn, teeth gritted.

“Of me?”

“No.”

“Then what?”

Mal shifts with something that seems like discomfort, his eyes falling from Nikolai’s face for the first time. He rubs the back of his neck, letting out a harassed breath, as though he holds the weight of the world on his shoulders.

“Of you… with Alina.”

Nikolai nods. 

“Granted. I understa-“

Once again, the raising of the hand. Nikolai knows this game well now, even if he doesn’t necessarily like playing it. Mal steps forward, his boots silent on the wooden floors. He may not be amplifying much these days, but Nikolai can’t help but notice he still has the soft tread, the graceful way Mal steps, silent and sure, as though Nikolai were the deer he was about to slay.

“And of Alina, with you.”

Nikolai’s mouth falls open, stunned into silence. It wasn’t that he found it particularly odd to be liked, on the contrary, he was quite used to it. Nikolai tended to woo most men and women with his easy charm, a well-placed smile. But there was something about Mal admitting this, a ferociousness in his eyes as though he dared Nikolai to challenge him. Handsome, blue-eyed Mal, Alina’s Mal. Mal who up until this moment had still felt a little like competition, as though they might never fall back into the easiness of friendship.

“I didn’t know,” Nikolai admits.

“Well, now you do,” Mal says, voice hard, and with that, he turns and promptly leaves the room.

**

That night, when Mal drapes a heavy arm over Alina in bed, there’s a small silence when he presses his face into her hair, breathing in the sweet smell of - berries? coconuts? Alina turns over in the dark, gnawing her bottom lip.

“What’s wrong?” Mal rasps, brushing his thumb over her bottom lip.

Even in the dark, Mal can see the nerves playing on her face, the words she wants to say turning over and over in her head. Mal nods encouragingly, and Alina lets out a fast breath.

“The nights I sleep here, I think Nikolai is lonely,” she admits, a hand cupping Mal’s face, as though she anticipates the glower and wishes to pre-emptively smooth it out.

Instead, Mal is surprised to know that in the dark, enveloped in each other’s arms, they are both thinking about Nikolai.

**

A few weeks later, Alina is unpinning her hair in front of her dresser. It tumbles down the pale expanse of her back as she pouts, wincing as she attempts to locate each fiddly, golden slide buried in her curls. Gently pushing her hands away, Nikolai resumes the task, relishing being this close to his wife.

There’s a few moments of silence, interrupted only by Alina’s high whines when Nikolai accidentally pulls her hair, followed by murmured apologies.

“Have you spoken to Mal recently?” Nikolai questions, any attempt to keep his voice nonchalant failing. 

Alina raises one perfect eyebrow at him in the mirror, confusion etched onto her features.

“Um, yes? Why?” 

Nikolai shakes his head, adding the last golden slide to a growing pile, his fingers untangling her curls as she sighs, allowing herself to lean back against him, rest a moment. The blonde attempts a smile, shaking his head, trying out some of that false bravado.

“I think he might rather like me.” Nikolai quips, watching as Alina’s eyes slide open, wondering if she can feel his heart pounding in his chest.

Instead of laughing, teasing, scoffing at him, Alina makes a little ‘hm’ noise, as though considering it.

“I guess I could see that.”

**

In the middle of a royal gathering, Nikolai and Alina slip away to the gallery, breathless, laughing and clutching at one another. It’s been a night of holding your head up straight, Alina folding her hand into Nikolai’s own as he introduces her to a Fjerdan businessman he can’t remember the name of, a Shu princess or two. They’re alone for all of a minute when Nikolai catches a flash of gold and green slipping into the room, the Royal Guard uniform, securing the door behind them.

“I’m sorry,” Alina giggles, “we were-“

She stops when she sees that it’s only Mal, looking apprehensive in his uniform. Immediately, Alina slips from his grasp, her lilac skirts whipping around her ankles as she throws herself into Mal’s awaiting arms, lavishing kisses on him. Mal laughs brightly as Alina twists in his arms, her eyes landing on Nikolai, standing across the way in all his finery.

Nikolai’s heart clenches in his chest at the sight of the two of them. Mal’s arm fit around her waist, Alina bright-eyed and flapping a hand in his direction, beckoning him closer. Nikolai takes a few tentative steps forwards, trying to quell the longing in his chest to simply slot himself into Mal’s side, link his fingers with Alina’s own and be content.

“ _Moi Soverennyi_ ,” Mal greets, and in one swift, brave movement, he takes Nikolai’s hand, ducking his head as though to bow, and pressing his lips to his King’s knuckles. A gesture he’s done to Alina a thousand times over. It should be meaningless, but for the way Mal lingers a little too long for it to be entirely proper, his blue eyes holding Nikolai’s. Alina bites her lip, hard enough to draw blood. She remembers Mal’s words to her - _you’re my flag, you're my nation_ \- and thinks he looks at Nikolai a little like that. The blonde at their side all but melts. 

It’s quiet then, the hum of music from the main hall filtering through, Alina’s uneven little breaths and the three of them still entangled, Nikolai still clutching Mal’s hand for dear life.

**

Mal sits, long legs splayed out before the fire, Nikolai’s back to his chest. Alina is on her back, her fingers dancing in the air, watching the warm, orange glow of the fire dance across her skin, her palm open. It’s a sad sight, one that makes Nikolai reach forward and clasp her fingers in his own so that Alina might shuffle in, laying her head in his lap. She understands and tucks her fingers into the gauzy folds of her dress. Mal is thoughtful.

“This is nice.” Alina breathes, bleary-eyed and suppressing a yawn.

“It’s insane.” Mal counters, his eyes fixed on Alina, who lifts her face towards the light to meet his words. Mal’s words tickle the shell of Nikolai’s ear.

“We’d never be able to hide it.” Nikolai chips in.

“With Mal as a guard?” Alina says, optimism flooding her tone.

“It’d be impossible,” Mal replies.

“ _Improbable_.” Alina and Nikolai say in unison, and the three of them pause, sharing uncertain looks until they all burst into peals of laughter. Nikolai hears Mal’s booming laugh reverberate in his chest, watches Alina as she places a hand over her heart in fits of giggles.

Mal’s lips brush Nikolai’s neck in answer, and Alina lays her head back down, and he swears his stomach flips, the feeling he loves right before his ship leaves the water. 

**

Tentative first kisses are had. Mal surprises Nikolai in the garden while Alina runs through the mazes with Misha on her heels, the syrupy, saccharine scent of roses in Nikolai’s nose, and he accidentally crumples the front of Mal’s uniform by fisting a hand in the fabric. 

When Alina bursts from the foliage, leaves tucked into her brown tresses, she laughs at the look on Nikolai’s face. Startled, the too-clever fox outfoxed. She’s breathless, every inch a queen, despite the muddied hem of her dress. Mal and Nikolai take turns chasing her through the flowerbeds, and Mal claps a hand over Misha’s eyes when Nikolai tackles Alina to the ground, planting a hasty kiss on her lips. 

Mal thinks he could live like this, love like this, when Nikolai’s foot hooks around his ankle, sending him veering into the grass. 

**

Eventually, their friends will learn, and become adept at learning to hide Mal sneaking in and out. Nikolai momentarily forgets David’s presence when he pulls Mal flush against his body, kissing a sarcastic comment from his lips. David merely pushes his glasses further up his nose and continues tinkering. Genya finds Alina asleep in the library with her head in Mal’s lap, and all Nikolai does is press a finger to his lips, uttering a comment about not waking the sleeping beauty. Zoya finds all three of them late for a meeting and bursts into Nikolai’s chambers in time to see Mal fall from the Lantsov’s bed, scrambling into the rough spun wool of his trousers whilst Alina and Nikolai laugh on. Tolya and Tamar lovingly rib Mal, shoving at his chest. Zoya rebuked them endlessly, Genya tailored the purple-red bruises on Nikolai’s fair neck, Nadia smiled when she passed Alina and Mal walking together in the halls, Mal’s fingers pressed lightly to her back. 

In this way, Alina was grateful for the war, because now she knew who to trust. 

**

People whisper, of course. About Alina and her Tracker, her longtime love, the poor King. Alina laughs behind a gloved hand and smiles over her shoulder at Nikolai and Mal, stood shoulder to shoulder as Alina shakes hands, kisses babies, and is generally a perfect Ravkan queen. The two of them lovingly call Mal both the King _and_ Queen consort, and he scoffs.

It was never perfect. They had roles to play, people to impress, Nikolai flirted brazenly and Mal rolled his eyes and Alina blushed. Whatever they were to one another could only be whispered in private. But in a way, Nikolai had kept his promise. Alina his Queen, and Mal right down the hall. Perhaps one day, a few children with blonde hair and Mal’s eyes, who would be fussed over by more than one loving parent.

The promise he’d made, over the Lantsov Emerald, had benefited the three of them quite wonderfully.

**Author's Note:**

> oh my god, so this is my first thing i've ever written for the grishaverse (and the first work i've shared with the world in, years and years) after i obsessively binge-read all of the books over the past two months. and basically, i shipped the hell out of these three all the way through the book, and pro-nikolai content is usually anti-mal, and that just ain't on. i'm sorry for this but it was entirely self indulgent.


End file.
